Finding You
by chhhan
Summary: COMPLETE! Katniss struggles to cope with life after the war, but as District 12 pulls itself together again, Katniss learns to do likewise. Katniss x Peeta. Post-Mockingjay but pre-epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

Post-Mockingjay and Pre-Epilogue

I'm sure this has been done to death but I wanted to write a version myself, one that makes me happy, because the books left me feeling pretty awful. That, and there's such a gap between the end of the book and the epilogue that I really figured more needed to be said.

Summary:

Katniss struggles to cope with life after the war, but as District 12 pulls itself together again, Katniss learns to do likewise. Katniss x Peeta.

Chapter 1

It's a morning like any other. I lie in bed without a dreg of energy, conscious that the prime time for hunting has long passed me by as the sunlight teasingly trickles between the curtains. The curtains are now collecting dust, as I haven't touched them since I had haphazardly thrown them together a few months ago when I arrived back in District 12. I've become a poor excuse for a hunter, only managing to pull myself out of bed when I hear Greasy Sae pottering around in the kitchen, and then, only half-heartedly picking up my bow and trotting into the forest for a few hours, and then, only on my better days. My energy wanes so easily. It frustrates me at times, but I'm getting to the point where I've stopped caring.

Today I lie there, eyes closed, legs heavy as lead. I haven't slept well. My dreams centred around Prim, sweet Prim, and her dying moments continued to replay in my head. I squeeze my eyes, feeling my tears spilling over their lids, and I force myself out of bed and down the stairs. I'm still in my pyjamas but I open the front door and look upon the row of primrose that Peeta had planted several weeks ago. They are still small and vulnerable-looking, all the more painful paired in memory with Prim, and I close the door, sinking to the floor. I know Greasy Sae won't be far off now though, so I head to the bathroom and shut myself in the shower.

I'm not long out of the shower when the familiar clunk of pots alerts me to my visitor. I push my legs forward down the stairs, conscious of my dripping hair hanging limply over my shoulders. My mother would have clucked in disapproval and thrust a towel at me, but Greasy Sae just gives me a smile and gestures for me to sit. She soon has a steaming bowl of something placed in front of me. It smells good, whatever it is. I eat it slowly, trying to find pleasure in the taste. Most things taste like cardboard to me now.

Greasy Sae's voice jolts me out of my reverie. "Peeta's making bread every day now." She gives me a warm look. "I'm sure he'd let you have some if you popped over and said hello."

I wonder how much Greasy Sae knows about Peeta now. About the anger that took him over, thanks to the hijacking he underwent at the Capitol. I can almost feel his fingers around my neck again. I once more hear the icy words spilling from his lips during our time in District 13. I slurp the porridge Greasy Sae has made loudly. I don't want to see him. I know I can't handle it. Peeta and I had become so close up until the Capitol whisked him away to their trackerjacker torture, and though he usually seems to be himself, I'm always fearful of the moment his mind decides to about-turn, and his eyes issue a death warrant to me.

Greasy Sae leaves for the Hob as I finish breakfast, and I decide it's high time to go hunting again. As much as I want to mope around all day, there is a nagging, guilty feeling that plagues me, and that is that I should be catching game for District 12. Shipments arrive on the train regularly enough, but I feel it's my duty to provide for the Hob, and our small, slowly growing population. Over the months that I had cooped myself up, feeling sorry for myself, people returned to District 12 and the rebuild began. I was glad to see the Hob had started up again, although it didn't buzz with activity half as much as it used to. It's now situated on top of the place where the original warehouse had stood. Now that it's not a centre of illegal trade, stands and stalls are abundant with beaming merchants.

I slip on my hunting gear and stride out the door. I pass by Haymitch's house, which as usual, is dead to the world, and then past Peeta's house. I know he'll be there by himself. I can smell the brisk scent of freshly baked bread, and I hurry past, before I feel tempted. I don't want to face him yet.

I find a rabbit in a snare that day, and I manage to catch a squirrel with an arrow to the neck, but nothing more that day. Feeling somewhat disappointed, I enter the Hob that afternoon and get rid of my catches quickly before disappearing back into my house. Greasy Sae is there again, whipping up dinner for me. I thank her and she leaves once I finish eating. And now I'm alone again. Well, technically I'm not on my own. Buttercup is sitting on the chair where Prim used to sit, curled up comfortably. He still seems to hate me to a degree, but I'm his only company now so he tolerates me.

The loneliness creeps up on me this evening though. I can't finish my meal and I find myself in front of Haymitch's door. I walk in without knocking – he's probably in so great a drunken stupor that he won't hear me anyway. But lo and behold, he surprises me today. He is sitting in a chair in the kitchen, bottle in hand but eyes slightly alert.

"Well, hasn't it been a while?" he drawls. "What's the problem today, sweetheart?"

Haymitch always knows how to make me feel like rubbish. I turn tail and leave his house, ignoring his hurried apologies and regretting my stupid impulse to seek out company. However, what's worse is that I walk straight into Peeta outside the door.

"Oof!" Peeta almost loses his balance, but he catches my arm and manages to steady himself. My arm feels like it's on fire under the touch of his fingers.

"Sorry," I quickly mutter, and I shrug his hand off before retreating to my own house. He doesn't stop me. I do watch him from the window of my kitchen as he goes into Haymitch's house though. _Are we both lonely?_ I ponder.

It's the first time I've interacted with him since he planted the primrose bushes outside my house. It was a gesture I appreciated immensely, but I couldn't bring myself to thank him, to approach him, even. However, seeing him today changed the themes of my nightmares. I know the Capitol had Peeta physically restrained and subjected him to trackerjacker poison while watching excerpts of his interactions with me in the games to hijack his memory, as he had been firmly under the belief that I was a mutt of the Capitol when we were reunited, but what exactly he saw, imagined, I don't know. I recall Johanna saying she was very familiar with his screams. What was making him scream? Was he being physically tortured? Or was it all in his mind? I had fret over it when he was still in their clutches, but since the war I had avoided thinking about him. I had avoided thinking about Gale too. And my mother. And Prim too, but it didn't stop her haunting my dreams, and now it was Peeta who began to feature centre stage.

My mind goes crazy with terrible imaginings, of what they did to him, of what he in turn imagined I had become. He had been so stalwart, so loyal to me, and his love for me felt so unconditional… I hadn't deserved it, and hadn't appreciated it, but once I was lost to him, the loss felt unbearably heavy. I feel it deeply tonight, thrashing in my bed, trying to halt imaginary doctors from jabbing Peeta with their venom-filled needles, trying to stop imaginary Peeta from ripping my neck out when they get to him. I wake up panting heavily, and find my trusty rope and began tying knots. I won't manage anymore sleep tonight.

The next day I get out of bed well before dawn, and am ready at the table when Greasy Sae comes in with her granddaughter. Once again, she mentions Peeta and the bread, and once again, I say nothing.

I go hunting, but fatigue wears me down and I only catch an injured rabbit. I bring it home with me that evening, hoping Greasy Sae will be happy to cook it for me. Thankfully, she obliges, and I enjoy my dinner more than usual. I head to bed early and sleep comes upon me, but followed swiftly by dreadful dreams. I relive the moments where Peeta was on death's doorstep in the games. I scream myself hoarse in that nightmare, but when I wake up, my throat burns with such pain that I realise I must have screamed aloud too. The last thing I saw was Peeta on the ground, chest unmoving after he had hit the forcefield in the arena, and in my nightmare there was no Finnick to rescue him.

 _He can't be dead. He's not dead,_ I think to myself, panic-stricken. I was sure I'd seen him yesterday, but what if I hadn't? What if I had imagined it? I leap out of bed, only in pyjamas again, and race down to his house. _I just need to check,_ I reassure myself. _He's here. He's alive. I just need to check._ The house is dark and looks unoccupied, and my fear multiplies. I fling the door open easily – it's not locked – and sweep up the stairs, slowing myself outside the only closed bedroom door. It has to be his. I click it open quietly and peer in cautiously. Relief soon floods me. I see his tousled blonde hair on the pillow, and watch the blankets move up and down smoothly with his breathing.

 _He's alive,_ I think to myself, trying to relax. _He's safe._ Then I suddenly became aware of how foolishly I'd run out, and embarrassed, I pull the door shut as quietly as I can manage. It gives a horrendously loud click as it shuts though, and I know it would have woken him. I can't help myself – I flee back into my house as quick as a flash, lock my door and curl back up in bed. The rest of my night is rewarded with peaceful sleep, at least.

The next morning I sleep in late, and my breakfast is cold when I make it downstairs. It feels too late in the day to bother heading out into the woods to hunt, so I sit in the rocking chair, staring at my pile of letters. I still haven't touched them, and I know I probably receive a few calls during the day that I miss due to hunting. Today, as if on cue, I hear the phone, and I picked it up, feeling brave.

"Hello? Is this Katniss?" comes my doctor's unsure voice.

"Oh, Doctor Aurelius. Hello," I say coolly.

Aurelius recovers himself quickly, and pleased that I had answered the phone for the first time in the months I had been in District 12, begins asking me about my condition. Had I been hunting? Had I made a good daily routine for myself? I'm very stiff with him though, answering with a curt yes or no, and by the end of our conversation he seems wearied.

"I'm going to call you again in a week," he tells me, more than a hint of exasperation in his voice. "We'll pick up where we left off."

"Okay, thank you Doctor," I say sweetly before hanging up.

I decide I deserved a treat for putting up with him today, so I visit the Hob and see if there are any decent sweets for sale. I wander the stalls, happening across Thom, and he entertains me with polite conversation for a few minutes. Then I return to searching the stands, and finally find what I was looking for.

"I'll have a bag of those," I tell the merchant, pointing at the peppermints, and missing Prim desperately.

As I enter Victor's Village, my heart stops as I see Peeta knocking at my door. He turns back down the path to his own house when his eyes catch sight of me. I'm frozen where I stand. I can't even move as he approaches me.

"Hey, Katniss," he says casually. "I was just looking for you."

"I-I was at the Hob, sorry. I'm actually a little busy right now," I respond quickly, and I start walking back to my house.

"With what?" Peeta asks, keeping step with me and ready to call my bluff. "I can help you with whatever it is."

I squeeze my eyes shut and stop walking. "It's fine, I'll do it later. Do you need something?"

Peeta's blue eyes search mine. "Someone was in my house last night."

"You never know with Haymitch," I say lightly. "I find him in my house sometimes too." Okay, that was a lie; he hasn't bothered calling in at all since I'd been back, but it sounded plausible.

"Was it you?" His eyes bore into mine, and I flinch from his gaze. He could go into a rage at any moment, I realise with a start of terror.

"I have to go, sorry," I stutter, not meeting his eyes. My legs suddenly carry me back to my house at a run, and I lock the door before collapsing in the living room onto the sofa.

What an ordeal. What a fool I had been, sneaking into his house, desperate to check he was still there. Of course he was still there. I kick myself mentally. You idiot, Katniss!


	2. Chapter 2

Whoa thanks for the reviews and things, guys! Well here's chapter 2.

Chapter 2

The next few days I make sure to get up well before dawn to hunt, and only return late in the evening. I lock my door securely when I get home, opening it only to allow Greasy Sae and her granddaughter in, and even then I eat quickly to get them out of my house as soon as I can. I'm scared of running into Peeta again. Peeta, Capitol-created Peeta, with his unforgiving eyes, claws at me in my nightmares. I wake up screaming every night, and I seek out Buttercup, who remains in the living room at night. He can't manage to sleep on the bed with me the way I am now. I bet he misses Prim immensely. She loved him so much, and gave him more attention than I can even comprehend. I pet him now anyway, as we are stuck with each other. He purrs quietly in response.

Dawn is just breaking and I don't have the energy to hunt today. I need to talk to someone about Peeta. I decide I will try my luck with Haymitch again. Perhaps we can drink together today or something.

Haymitch's front door doesn't open all the way today – there must be a lot of junk on the other side stopping it from opening – and I squeeze through the small gap. I find Haymitch in his usual chair, snoring loudly.

"Haymitch," I say, shaking his shoulders. "Haymitch, wake up!"

The man is unresponsive. I go for an old habit, and douse Haymitch in ice cold water.

My old mentor springs out of his chair, eyes wild, knife swiping at the air.

"Haymitch," I say calmly, taking a seat opposite him. "Sit with me?"

He stares at me stonily, water dripping down his face. He then obliges, to my surprise. I wonder if he is trying to act better to me than he had last time. There were times when he seemed like the most hard-hearted man I knew, and yet there was always the odd occasion that he would try to appease me, try to be civil with me. Today seemed to be one of those special days.

"What's going on?" he asks in his usual growl. He wipes the water off his face with his sleeve.

"The nightmares," I say simply, closing my eyes. "I can't take it anymore." I open one of my eyes. "Not with him living so nearby."

"What, Peeta?" Haymitch snorts, looking through the window to our neighbour's house. "He's no danger to you anymore. If he was, he wouldn't have been allowed back here."

"How do you know that for sure?" I ask him suspiciously. "All it would take is one overlooked trigger for him to snap and come at me."

I get a withering stare from Haymitch, but then he glances back out the window. He scratches his head with his filthy fingers. "Look, how about you come back when the sun is actually up? After breakfast? We can talk about this later. I want some shut-eye."

I don't want to leave so easily, but the look Haymitch gives me is final, and I obey and return to my house, defeated for the moment. I try to find something to busy myself with. I arrange all the precious little tokens in the study. My mockingjay pin. My family's plant book. Even the locket Peeta gave to me. It hurts looking at the locket though. Prim is gone, and my mother and Gale are impossibly far away. I know I have letters stacked on the mantelpiece, probably from both of them, but I'm still not ready to face them. I wish I had my pearl too. I must have lost it in the Capitol. My teeth grit painfully. I should forget about the pearl.

I take the plant book though, and flip through the pages. I'm so glad I have it. It has both sentimental and practical value. I eye the drawings Peeta did with a little jealousy. If I could draw like this, perhaps I could add a little more to the book. I don't have much more I can contribute, but I remember how relaxed and happy it made me, getting absorbed in a project like it, and I sorely want those feelings back. An idea tickles at me – perhaps I can make a new book? I think about Prim. I feel like making something that she would have liked. Almost instantly, I know what I want to do. Memories crash through my head, of my father, of Finnick, of old Bogs, sweet Rue… The people who are gone now, but deserve so much to still be here. The people whose memory should live on. I take a breath. I know just how to preserve their memory. I make a mental note to ask Doctor Aurelius for some parchment the next time he calls.

Greasy Sae eventually knocks on the door and I hurriedly let her and her granddaughter in, embarrassed at having forgotten I left the door locked. It's boiled eggs today. I'm not feeling quite so troubled about Peeta anymore, but I return to Haymitch's after I've eaten, because I know I still need to address the problem or it's going to keep eating at me.

"Take a seat," Haymitch tells me gruffly, smacking a chair at the table.

I sit down meekly, and wait.

Eventually Haymitch is ready to talk. He takes a breath. "Right, that boy is not going to hurt you, and you need to understand that."

I open my mouth to respond but Haymitch kicks my chair. "I'm not done!" he barks. He regains what little composure he had, and continues on. "You can't avoid him forever – he lives right beside us. You just need to trust him, sweetheart. He's recovering."

Again, my mouth is about to open to speak, and that's when Haymitch's front door opens first and the last person I want to see appears in the doorway.

"Katniss! I didn't realise you were here," Peeta's words stumble out.

I stand up and glare at Haymitch. "This was your plan!"

"Nope, pure coincidence," he answers smoothly, and opens a bottle. "Ask him yourself."

I refuse though, and make my way to the door. It still won't open all the way, and Peeta hasn't moved, so I can't get out.

"Excuse me, Peeta," I say, my voice a little wobbly.

Peeta stares at me, his eyes soft, before pushing himself through the door. He's so close to me I can feel his breath. He has the sweet scent of freshly baked bread about him. He grabs my arms gently. "Can we talk? Please?"

My arms feel so hot under his fingers. I have had no physical contact with anyone else since I left the Capitol, and it feels alien to me now. I can only shake my head and jerk my arms free, before I slip through the door. Peeta is right behind me though, and his arms encircle me.

"Please, Katniss," he pleads, tightening his arms around me. "Please don't ignore me."

I feel his sturdy body against my back. A rush of feelings hit me at once. Fear. Comfort. Sadness. Desire.

I know I can't let myself do this. I'll regret it. I should tear myself free and run home and hide. However, I only manage a feeble attempt at shaking him off, and it just makes him clutch me closer. "Katniss," he breathes down my neck. "Come to my house and talk? We can have bread. There's cheese on it."

"I'm not hungry," I mumble back too quickly. I'm so conscious of his arms around me. What if I do something that triggers the Capitol Peeta? He could easily strangle me here, or snap my neck. I begin to tremble, caught up in my fears. I can't escape. He is easily the strongest of us. Not even Haymitch can probably save me now. This is it.

"Katniss, you're shaking," Peeta says softly, loosening his grip. "Come to my place?" He gives me a choice by letting me go.

I can't get any words out. As he makes his way to his own house, I turn and look at Haymitch who is standing in the gap between the door. He gestures me forward, to go with Peeta. I could make a run for it now though.

Almost as if Haymitch sees the plan in my eyes, he joins me in his front yard and gives me a sharp whack in the back. "Go on, his house is just there."

I resign myself to going to Peeta's house. Perhaps he won't kill me. Perhaps he might just hurt me. Or maybe he might not get triggered at all. That thought gives me a little hope, and I raise my head as I enter his house. Perhaps today I'll only see the boy with the bread, and not the Capitol creation.

I take a seat in his living room. There is warm bread on a dish in the kitchen, and the smell sparks off my appetite. Peeta doesn't seem to be around – I think I can hear him upstairs – so I inspect the bread. It has melted cheese on the top. My hand reaches out for a piece when I freeze. Could it be poisoned?

Almost on cue, I hear Peeta say, "It's not poisoned." He grins at me nervously. "Try it?"

Half my senses are screaming at me not to, that it's a trap, and the other half feels so hungry for it that my fear loses out and I take a brave bite.

It's delicious, to say the least. I eat it, still standing in front of the table, and Peeta seems a little reassured by my appetite. "You like cheese, right?" he asks hesitantly. "Real or not real?"

Back to this game? "Real," I say, after swallowing the last piece. "Thank you, Peeta. The bread is delicious." I add, formally.

He takes my hand and I feel the familiar fire – the fire of fear? – on my own palm. I'm surprised he doesn't let my hand go from shock of being burned. Or, more likely, he just doesn't feel it.

"Are you going to make a bakery?" I ask eventually, as we stand side-by-side, still holding hands. We're both staring at the table.

"I don't know," he muses. "It would be a lot of work on my own."

I nod. There's a long silence, neither of us wanting to bring it up. Eventually, I feel compelled to say it though. "Peeta, it was me who went into your house that night."

I feel his eyes turn to my face. "I thought so. Haymitch wouldn't run away if he were in your shoes. Or rather, he couldn't. He'd probably tumble down the stairs."

A weak smile spreads on my face. "Poor Haymitch. No wonder I never find him upstairs in his house."

Peeta continues training his eyes on me until I feel the pressure to explain myself further. "I dreamed you died when you hit the forcefield in the Quell, and Finnick wasn't there to save you. I went into your house because I just… wanted to check that you really were still here," I confess. I pluck up the courage to look at his face properly. He seems shocked, and then pleased.

"You can check whenever you're worried," he says firmly, taking my other hand and facing me directly. I can't keep up eye contact though, and I try to pull away.

"My dreams are different now, anyway," I mumble at my feet.

"Oh?"

I gulp, and look up at him again. "Now I dream that you're trying to kill me. Every night. I can't handle this, Peeta." I bite my lip.

Peeta's face is grief-stricken now. He breathes deeply for a few moments. "I won't hurt you. I… I don't think I'll hurt you. I've got it under control."

"How can you know that?" I burst out. "What if it takes just one wrong move on my part to tip you off? What will happen then, when you come to your senses to find me dead under your hands? Is that okay with you?"

His hands let go of mine suddenly and Peeta backs away. "That won't happen," he whispers, but he clearly doubts himself. "I've been through so much therapy, the doctor is positive I'll be okay."

I shake my head and start toward the door. "Thank you for the bread but…" I trail off. "We probably shouldn't talk again."

Before I can twist the door handle, his arms are on either side of me, and I stare at the door in fear. Is this it? Has he snapped? Again, I feel his breath on the back of my neck, and goosebumps on my back tingle. I wait to hear the voice of the Capitol mutts that I heard when I was hunting Snow, but instead I hear the steady voice of the boy with the bread.

"Don't leave," he implores me, and like before, his arms close around me. This time he pulls me back toward him and holds me loosely. I don't know what to do. My brain is roaring at me to run, to fight, to escape the fiery sensations I feel wherever our bodies are in contact. My body decides otherwise though, and I turn in his arms, back against the door now.

He sees the fear in my eyes and he pulls my body close against his. Slowly, tentatively, I find my own arms snaking around him. How long has it been since I've held someone? I feel my arms burn with heat against his back. I press my cheek to his chest, conscious of his thudding heart. Part of me feels filled with fear, and the other overcome with relief. I squeeze myself closer to him, if that's even possible, and his big hands stroke my head.

 _It's a trap, you idiot!_ I think. _He's going to crush your skull!_ But nothing bad happens. I realise my body has been tensed up, and I finally relax, and rub his back with my own small hands. I don't know how long we stand there, comforting each other with gentle strokes. I expect a knock at the door or something to interrupt, but nothing happens. It's just me and Peeta.

Eventually Peeta pulls away, but I don't let him go. I'm not ready to let go yet. I could hold onto him forever. I just want to hold onto this beautiful feeling inside of me, this feeling of safeness that has smothered the feelings of fear.

"Katniss?" he asks, trying to make sense of my face. "Can I visit you sometimes?"

I nod, still holding him tightly. "Bring some bread with you though."

He breaks into a chuckle and tilts my head up. "I will. I need to get baking now though; I have a few orders to take care of today. I'll come over at dinnertime?"

I pore over my family's plant book for most of the day, tracing my finger over the pictures, and reading the words aloud to myself. Dinner sneaks up on me, and Greasy Sae lets herself in, as I haven't bothered locking the door today. She starts cooking wordlessly, but when the door opens and Peeta walks in, she gives an exclamation.

"Peeta! Are you joining Katniss for dinner tonight?"

He gives her a toothy grin. "Sure am. I brought dinner rolls," he says, holding up a bag.

I feel my mouth salivate, and I sit at the table, joined swiftly by Peeta. I'd be happy just to eat the bread for dinner. We eat together, silently but with smiles. Just as we finish our platefuls, I bring up my idea to Peeta.

"You remember my family's plant book you helped illustrate?" I ask him, popping my last dinner roll in my mouth.

"Yes?" Peeta looks at me expectantly. "Do you want to work on it some more?" He seems excited at the prospect.

"Actually, I had something different in mind. I want to make a new book." I lean forward in my chair. "A book of memories. What do you think?"

Peeta tilts his head. "Memories? What do you mean?"

"I'll show you," I tell him, and I head to the study to find my family's plant book. When I get back though, something is wrong with Peeta. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his fingers are clenching the chair.

"Peeta…?" I whisper, horrified. "What's happening? Is it the Capitol?" And suddenly my brain is being hammered with images from my nightmares, of Peeta going mad, turning on me, tearing off my flesh, breaking me apart. I almost run away, but I see his eyes slowly open, and his fingers relax, and he slumps in the chair.

I dash to his side although my senses tell me it's not safe. It's not safe and it'll never be safe. I thrust those feelings to the side and take his hand before I can stop myself.

"Peeta, are you okay?" I ask him uncertainly. I give his hand a squeeze.

"Katniss?" His eyes slowly focus on my face. "I'm so sorry… it's just… remembering…"

I trap Peeta in an embrace. Peeta is Peeta. He told me he wouldn't hurt me, and he didn't. In spite of the warning voices in my head, I'm so desperate to believe him that I cling to him all the more tighter. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No!" he responds fiercely, and looks me in the eyes. "I want to remember everyone. Snow can't take these things from me. With your help, I'll be able to keep all the real memories. I can manage this, don't worry."

I still feel a little uncertain, but I place my plant book in his hands, and open it. "Well, I was thinking, we can put a picture in, and write the important things beside it. Of course, we won't be able to get pictures for everything, but I was hoping you'd be able to help with that."

Peeta nods as I explain my idea fully and it occurs to me that this might help him even more than it'll help me. When he leaves my house that night, we exchange grateful smiles. I make my way to bed, a wave of happiness in my heart. Perhaps all is not lost between us. I don't want to think about that too much though, so I settle down in bed, and am lost in dreams of sweet memories I'll be locking in that book as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

Another chapter!

Chapter 3

I emerge from my room bright and early the next morning, hunting gear in hand. I can't do anything about my book idea until I hear from Aurelius, so today I will distract myself with hunting. Today, it's just me and the woods.

There's nothing in the snares, to my disappointment, but the game is plentiful and I lie in wait, catching squirrel after squirrel, to my rising delight. I also shoot a couple of rabbits, and manage to even happen upon an unsuspecting wild dog. I feel a surge of pride in my catches today as I stride back to town. An eager butcher and Greasy Sae quickly take my kills off my hands, and I slip back into my house, a delicious smile splayed across my face.

I'm sitting petting Buttercup when Greasy Sae walks in and begins preparing dinner for me. I hadn't stuck around for breakfast this morning, but she seemed glad I had gone out hunting today anyway, and told me as much. I relish her approval, and plan to head out early the following day too.

The next day is Sunday. I grab my gear and head out bright and early, but a hovercraft materialises just outside Victor's Village and a familiar face steps out, despite the sun not quite being up yet. I can't even believe it. It can't be him but it's definitely him.

The words are on my lips yet I can barely say it aloud. "Gale!" I almost trip over my feet in my hurry to meet him.

"Catnip!" he laughs, and he catches me in a sweeping hug, lifting me high in the air.

I feel the tears rolling off my smiling cheeks. "Gale, you're back!" And suddenly I'm aware of my hunting gear in my hand. My mind works quickly. "Gale, come hunting with me! Let's go now!" I don't even care about what other plans he has. I just know it's Sunday, and it's been so long, and seeing him so well gives me such a lift in spirits. His hair is cropped shorter than it used to be, and his skin has tanned a little, but he's still the Gale I remember.

Gales grins at me, says something to the pilot and the hovercraft disappears. He pulls me into another embrace and together we walk to our usual hole in the fence. We follow the snare trail, and Gale adjusts a few things on them before we spread out to hunt. It's not long before we have a decent score of game between us. As we break by the lake, he tells me all about his life in District 2. He has money, security, and is able to look after his mother and siblings and keep them living in comfort. I think of kind Hazelle and the kids, and how they must be thriving now, free of the Seam and District 13.

"They all miss you, you know," he says to me, with a crooked grin. "They kept insisting I bring you home with me."

I laugh. "Ah, if only."

Gale's eyes glint and suddenly the atmosphere has changed. "What if you _could_ come back with me though?"

I laugh again, nervously this time. "I'm not allowed out of District 12, Gale. Everyone knows what a dangerous lunatic I am."

"But what if I had the power to change that?" His eyes are so earnest, and focussed on mine.

I feel very small now. I'm very scared of where this is going. "W-well, I've only just started to get back into the swing of things here, and I mean, I'm needed here."

"What if you're needed more back with me in District 2?" Gale's face is very close to mine now. All my happy feelings at seeing him, at hunting together, are dissipating very quickly.

"I'm sure I'm needed more here," I insist. "There's no other hunters here, you know."

"The trains come in with plenty of food, Katniss. And I can arrange to send some hunters here," Gale said smoothly. "Come on," he says breathlessly, taking my hand. "Come back with me to District 2. You'll be so happy there, you have no idea."

I'm running out of excuses. I don't know why I'm even making excuses. I should take his offer, shouldn't I? There's nothing left for me here except sadness, right? And yet something keeps me clinging to this bombsite of a home.

"District 12 is my home," I say weakly. "I can't leave. I have to help put it together again. Things are finally coming together again."

Gale's patience finally seems to be wearing. "We can fix it up from District 2. We can plan where the new buildings will go, organise everything that you want from there. And of course, we can come back sometimes."

I shake my head and get to my feet, and I feel Gale let go of my hand. I see him from the corner of my eye, and I realise he's more heartbroken than I've ever seen him. Even more than the time he told me he loved me and I could only answer, "I know".

"How long are you staying here?" I asked him, feeling incredibly uncomfortable now.

His eyes are hard. "I'll help you take all this back to the Hob, and then I'm heading back."

"Oh Gale, you can't be serious," I whisper in horror. "The only reason you came back here was for me?"

"It doesn't matter." His voice is like a sheet of ice.

"It does matter!" I retort wildly. "If I'd known, then I'd have thought it through more!"

Gales eyes narrow and he stares into the distance. "Yet your answer would still be the same."

We had an extremely awkward walk back to the Hob to sell our catches, and then back to Victor's Village. Gale's hovercraft appeared to pick him up, and he gave me a cool nod as he got on board. The tears in my eyes threatened to spill over. It felt so unfair. Why did he have to do this to me? Of course I love Gale, but I love so much in District 12 that I couldn't possibly move away. Everywhere else I've been outside of District 12, I've hated. Some of the other districts were liveable, but nothing compared to my home district. And of course, there was one small thing that nitpicked at my feelings for him. A small thing? A really big thing. Prim's death. I know he had never intended for her to be a victim of it, but the fact that the design of the trap was his used to plague me a lot. I know it would haunt me, seeing him every day and thinking about her dying in the death trap he designed.

I slip into my house and hear the phone go. I consider leaving it, but realise it is probably my Doctor and I want to talk to him about my idea.

"Hello? Is this you, Katniss?" comes Doctor Aurelius's voice.

"Hello Doctor."

I hear Aurelius make an irritable sound. "I tried to call you all through yesterday and today."

"Ah, I've been hunting," I tell him reproachfully. "Starting a daily routine. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Aurelius is quiet for a moment, and then concedes, "Yes, that's very good news. Well, tell me which hours you'll be out so I know when I can call for next time."

I oblige, and then mention my idea. His curiosity is piqued, and he promises to arrange for parchment to be sent to me on the next train. He then starts asking about my nightmares, and while they haven't been bad over the past couple of days, I don't really want to talk about it. I then pretend I have visitors at my door to excuse myself, after seeing a group of people walk by the window.

As I hang up, I watch the small crowd curiously. There must be around six of them, and I peep out my door to see them go up to Peeta's house. He answers his door with a surprised smile, and brings out a few bags steaming with what I imagine is hot, toasty bread. Maybe some even have cheese on them. I feel hungry at the thought. I watch as a pretty girl at the front of the group swaps a handful of coins for the bag of bread, and takes a quick bite of one of the small rolls. She laughs with delight, and gives Peeta a lingering kiss on the cheek. And suddenly I close my door and storm to the living room and turn the TV on. I don't know who that girl was, but she has no business giving Peeta a kiss on the cheek. Or... does she? I have the volume of the TV up fairly loud but I hear the crowd pass by my house again.

"That's her house, right?" I hear one of the boys in the group say.

"Poor Peeta," comments one female voice.

A cluck from another female. "He'll move on eventually. She's so cold."

I press the volume up further and watch what is undoubtedly Plutarch's singing show. There are so many pretty girls there though, and I think of blotchy, burned up me, and get annoyed again.

This is ridiculous. Since when did I care about my looks? Since when did I care about other girls talking to Peeta? He can talk to whoever he wants. The Capitol freed him from his love for me, and he should take advantage of that. Find a girl who can make him happy, who can make him a family. I certainly can't.

I realise these thoughts make my insides bubble with fury, and I want to yell at something. Buttercup is sleeping peacefully though, and as much as I detest him, I know I shouldn't. Then it occurs to me who I can talk to about this.

"HAYMITCH," I yell, kicking the sofa. Haymitch groans and his bottle slips out of his hand to the floor. His eyes open slowly and meet mine.

"What a lovely surprise to wake up to you yelling, sweetheart. Need something?" he asks snarkily amidst a yawn.

"I've had a horrible day," I tell him, and sit beside him. I eye the bottle on the floor. There's still a little in there. I take it and try drink it down but feel it snatched from my hands.

"That's my last bottle till Wednesday's train," Haymitch hisses, and gulps it down himself. "So, what happened?"

"Gale showed up and wanted to take me with him back to District 2."

"Well that's impossible anyway," Haymitch sneers, shaking the bottle for the last few drops. "You're stuck here because of your 'condition'."

I shake my head. "He implied he had the power to override that. He's quite high up over there."

Haymitch looked thoughtful for a moment. It didn't suit him. Finally, he says in a low voice, "You can't leave anyway."

"I know," I answer, my brows furrowed. "I'm not sure why though."

"You'll work it out sooner or later," he says in a cheery voice, and tries to push me up off the couch. "Now, off with you."

"I'm not done!" I tell him indignantly. "You're meant to look after me, aren't you? So listen to me!"

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "I'm listening, sweetheart. What else is there?"

"About… Peeta…" I begin, eyes on the floor.

"What about him?"

I close my eyes. "We're all right again, but I just… It's just…" I feel the blood rise to my cheeks. I can't even say it. I'm jealous because a girl I don't know gave Peeta a kiss on the cheek?

My mentor sighs. "Come back when you can say it."

"What?" I ask dumbly.

Haymitch wipes his nose on his shirt before continuing, "You've never been good at voicing your feelings on these things. Never wanted to face them."

Haymitch is right, I realise. After years of avoiding such thoughts, when answers were demanded of me, I had none but confusion.

"I don't think you really helped me but thanks," I tell him gruffly. "I'll bring you a bottle tomorrow – I have one spare at home."

"Bring it now," Haymitch grins up at me.

The next day I decide to stay home and deal with the pile of letters on the mantelpiece. I haven't touched any of them in the many months I've been home. Most of them are from my mother, a few from Gale, two from Doctor Aurelius and one each from Johanna, Beetee and Annie. I choose to give my mother a phone call using the number she gave me in one of the letters. The number goes to the hospital she's helped set up in District 4. I hadn't even called her when I was meant to when I first arrived in District 12. This would be my first time hearing her voice in such a long time.

We have a long catch up, my mother and I. I don't tell her anything too personal, because I had lost that kind of trust in her long ago, but I'm happy to hear about everything she has been doing, all the countless people she's saved that would have been lost had she still been operating in District 12. She has no regrets about going to District 4, except of course, that I have to remain here in 12 on my own. I tell her I'm not alone – I have Buttercup, Haymitch, Thom, Peeta… the list seems short, especially considering that I talk to none of them regularly.

I spend the day reflecting a lot between the letters I write replies to, and when Greasy Sae comes and cooks for me later that night, I tell her about how everyone is doing according to their letters. She seems happy for me. However, not long after she leaves, I see a little group of people slip past my house, about the same time that they had gone past last night. The group is smaller, but the girl that kissed Peeta's cheek is there. I glower at her and her bouncing chestnut curls as she passes, and can't help myself as I watch their interaction. Peeta smiles at the group, and makes polite conversation. That girl, the one I already feel hostile toward, touches Peeta's chin and says something supposedly very sweet, which sends her girlfriends into giggles and a red blush across Peeta's cheeks. He bids them goodnight though and closes the door. I close mine quickly too, and spy out my window. I hear the group as they pass my house.

"I think that went well!"

"Of course it did. He's so nice."

"Hey, don't you lot fall for him too!"

There is a chorus of laughter and then they're gone. I want to stomp down to Peeta's and demand to know what was going on. I want to tell him those girls could probably never hope to truly understand him, understand what he went through, and what he's still going through. And then I remember that I have no right thinking any of these things. I've become painfully aware of how desperately I miss him, but I certainly don't deserve him. And on top of that, there is no happiness to be found in a future with me; I want no marriage, no children, no family.

However, a knock at the door sends my thoughts flying, and I get up quickly and answer it. It's him. Before I can say anything, he's offering a bag of bread to me.

"It's got cheese on top," he adds with a warm smile, thrusting it into my hands.

"Thanks," I answer as I take the bag, trying to pull myself together. I don't fool him though.

"Is something wrong, Katniss?"

I shake my head. "Long day."

Peeta swallows uncomfortably. "I saw you two this morning," he admits. "You and Gale."

My head snaps up. "You did?"

"Yeah. Is everything all right?"

I don't know how to answer him at first. "Yeah, everything is all right."

Peeta exhales, relief softening his features. "That's good. I almost thought he was going to steal you away from District 12, for a while there."

My body seems to be frozen. Peeta's concern is back. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"No," I answer him weakly. "But he wanted me to." I look into Peeta's eyes, and he knows I don't want to talk anymore about it. He gives me a firm clap on the shoulder before leaving.

That night a new type of dream plagues me. Nothing to do with the games, or my family. It's just Peeta, asleep in bed like that night I checked on him. But there's someone else. That girl, that girl I don't even know, is there too. She's in my dream with Peeta. She looks back at me slyly before crawling into his bed beside him, a knife clenched between her teeth. She rubs his shoulders and he moans happily before the knife is now in her hand and her hand is slicing across his throat-

"PEETA!" I scream, sitting up in bed.

What if that vixen is there, and Peeta is lying there with his throat slit, and it wasn't just a dream?

And then something hits me. _"You can check whenever you're worried,"_ he'd told me. I can't help myself tonight. I race over to his house in my pajamas and bare feet, scoot up the stairs, and push his door open with no discretion. He's alone though, and he pulls himself up to look at me.

"Is that you, Katniss?" he asks sleepily. He's untouched. I feel so relieved I sink to my knees and try to catch my breath.

"Katniss?" He crawls to the edge of the bed to see me sitting limply on his floor. "What's the matter?"

"Bad dream," I breathe, looking up at his sleepy blue eyes.

He gets out of bed and sits down beside me. His arms reach around me and pull me close to him.

"We used to sleep together and escape the nightmares," he says suddenly. "Real or not real?"

I'm almost too distracted by the heat of his arms around me to answer. "Real."

All of a sudden his arms are lifting me up and he places me in his bed, then sneaks in beside me.

"Is this okay?" he asks me gently.

I nod slowly.

Pleased, he snuggles right up beside me, placing his arms protectively around me.

I struggle to ignore the burning sensations on all the places where we touch. I push it all to the back of my mind, and eventually sleep wins out.

I wake up a little after dawn, and to my chagrin, Peeta is already awake beside me, eyes locked on my face.

"Good morning," he smiles. "Did you sleep well?"

I nod. "Did you?"

"Best I've had in a long time. I suppose you've got to head away and go hunting soon, though," he considers.

I don't have to, really. I drink in the sight of this well-built boy beside me though. He's clearly attractive, even with the burns patching his skin, much like on mine. Actually, yes, I definitely have to go hunt. I shouldn't be here enjoying his company this much with nothing good to offer in return. He deserves better… doesn't he? Of course he does.

I force myself out of his bed, missing the comfort almost immediately as I head to his bedroom door.

"Is this allowed to happen again?" he asks quietly, before I exit.

I'm not sure, so I give him an ambiguous sidelong glance before making my getaway.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews! Sorry about spelling mistakes - feel free to point them out if/when you spot them!

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Chapter 4

The next month races by. The parchment arrives and Peeta is just as excited as I am to get started. I get into a daily routine, as I promised Doctor Aurelius. Every morning I eat bread I've gotten from Peeta, and head out before dawn and hunt. Greasy Sae only comes in the evenings now to cook for me, and usually with some of the game I've brought back to the Hob and given her or the butcher there. Peeta sometimes comes and joins me for dinner, or at least after dinner, and every day we work on the book till the sun vanishes. I still have nightmares: about Prim dying, Peeta dying, Finnick dying, Bogs dying, Rue dying… but storing the good memories of them in the book seems to set the nightmares to rest. Sometimes the girl and her friends who buy bread from Peeta make their way into my nightmares, killing Peeta, killing me, destroying District 12, setting fires, and I have to hurry downstairs and find Buttercup. Only on a couple of nights do I succumb to the anger and fear to the point that I let myself into Peeta's house and crawl in beside him. He never says a word but he always gives me a gentle smile and wraps me in comfort. And I feel a quiet satisfaction as I see the number of visits from the brown-haired girl and her friends decline by the week.

One day Peeta takes me by surprise when he's over after dinner and working on the book with me. He's placing a photo of Finnick in the book, which I received from Annie a couple of weeks ago with a letter, when he asks, "Can I ask a favour of you?"

I purse my lips, not sure of what to expect. "What kind of favour?"

He traces the image of Finnick. "I've been wondering if I could get you to teach me to swim? Sometime when you're not busy?"

"Oh." I laugh, feeling silly for having been worried. "Of course."

I decide to teach him at the lake where my father taught me to swim, and get him to meet me there in the afternoon, so when we're done I can return with my catches in the forest with him. It should only take a week or two, tops, I tell him.

The following day I wait around by the lake at the time we agreed on, but Peeta is nowhere to be seen. I doubt he forgot. Maybe he got lost? I don't want to move though, in case he arrives and I'm gone. Then I do something out of an old instinct. I whistle our call that we used for a short time during the 74th Hunger Games. A response echoes, and we exchange whistles till I hear the snapping of twigs as Peeta blunders through the thicket out into the lakeside.

"The bird whistle," he pants, coming to my side. "I remember it. You got angry at me because I was gathering berries and didn't whistle back to you. Real or not real?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Real. So did you get lost today?"

"Mmm." Peeta's cheeks are red. "I haven't been out here before, you know."

I sigh but I'm smiling. "Okay, well, you ready to begin?"

We both strip to our underclothes and enter the water after Peeta has placed his prosthetic leg to the side. I look at the metal aid with guilt. I feel responsible for him losing it. It must be hard for him, but he doesn't show it. I watch him as he sits down in the water. It's pleasant being in the lake with the warm summer heat on our shoulders.

It becomes apparent immediately that Peeta doesn't even know the basics of swimming though. If he can't touch the bottom, he can't keep himself afloat. I bring him back to the shallows and think of how my father taught me.

"Here, I want you to try lie on your back," I tell him slowly.

He obeys, but his torso begins sinking straight away.

"No no," I say hurriedly. I place my palm under his lower back, and make him lie back again. "You have to push your body upwards, and keep it on the surface. Come on, it's not that hard."

Peeta manages fine as long as my hand is there pushing him upwards, but as soon as I remove it, he sinks.

"Come on!" There's mock exasperation in my voice. "You have to keep your backside up or you won't float."

After several more tries, Peeta gets the hang of it, and he calls to me with glee. "Look, Katniss! I'm doing it!"

I ease him into the deeper areas and encourage him to move his arms and leg now. He succeeds in propelling himself around, albeit a little awkwardly with just one leg to use, and the delight is evident in his expression. He watches the sky, and I join him, floating on my back lazily.

"It's nice, right?" I say to him, warmly.

He turns to me to agree, but loses his posture and begins flailing in the water. He can't quite reach the bottom here, so I push the small of his back up to the surface again and he's floating beside me again, laughing with embarrassment.

"I've got a ways to go, huh?"

As predicted, it takes two weeks for him to fully come to grips with swimming. I teach him all sorts of swimming styles – on his back, on his front with his head above the water, on his side, paddling like a wild dog. It's relaxing for both of us, as I manage to remain patient with him, and he eager to obey. Sometimes I become self-conscious, knowing the water has soaked through my undershirt and underwear and that there's probably little left to the imagination, but he never acts awkward about it. I suppose we are familiar enough with each other in underclothes after all those times we slept together before the Quarter Quell that it's not a big deal.

When I tell him it's our final lesson, he seems disappointed. "Can't we do this more?" he asks, paddling around. "I'm not as good as you yet."

I chuckle at him, and splash him lightly. "You can come back whenever. It's not my lake."

Peeta furrows his brows. "What if the wild dogs get me when I try walk home as it gets late? I'll need you then." He grabs me around the waist and hides behind my back. "They might eat me."

I turn and face him, smiling. "Peeta."

His blue eyes are so clear as he gazes at me. "Do we really have to finish our lessons?"

My finger taps his nose. "Yes," I say firmly. "Greasy Sae has been on my case about the shortage of delicious bread being baked lately."

Peeta sighs and lets me go. "I suppose. A few people have been asking me about that too."

My eyes twinkle dangerously. "That brown-haired girl and her friends?" I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips. I quickly apologise. "I'm sorry, Peeta. I-"

"Yeah, they're wondering why I won't do bigger orders. I tell them the truth – I haven't had the time," Peeta says overtop of me.

"Oh, okay," I say, turning around and wanting the conversation to be over, but Peeta slithers through the water by my side and pops up in front of me again.

"How do you know about them?" he asks me curiously.

I wrinkle my nose. "They used to go to your place a lot, and they talked loudly when they passed by my house on their way back."

There's a teasing look in Peeta's eyes now, and he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it, thinking better of it. I'm grateful for his self-restraint, and after selling the few squirrels I caught at the Hob, we walk back to Victor's Village comfortably. He stays for dinner and works on the book with me, and I feel a bit guilty now. I've really been eating up his time. Yes, the swimming lessons were his own choice, but he devotes so much time to working on the book with me that it must definitely be having an impact on his baking. I propose to him to meet up less regularly to work on the book – maybe once a week instead of every day. He tries to protest but I tell him that baking isn't important only to him but also to the residents of District 12. As the population continues to rise again, and buildings are raised again, so too do the people seek the feelings of normality, and part of that comes from being able to visit a bakery and bring back some fresh bread to their families. And even though Peeta's house isn't a bakery, it wouldn't take much convincing for Thom to organise a building in the town for Peeta to bake and sell in.

Peeta knows what I'm saying makes sense, so he concedes and goes home, not hiding his disappointment. However, that night when I dream of losing Peeta to a burning District 12, my arms flail across the bed and I feel a warm body. It's not Buttercup though. Peeta is lying in my bed, fast asleep. I wonder briefly if it was nightmares that brought him here, but then, I'm so comforted by his presence that I snuggle against him and shortly disappear into sweet slumber.

When I wake again, it's time to get up and go hunting. Peeta's still asleep, but he wakes when I try to climb over him and out of the bed. He grabs me and pulls me into a hug.

"Don't go yet," he whispers sleepily. He pulls the blankets back over me.

I look at his bleary blue eyes, his messy blonde curls, his strong jaw relaxed for once, and I make myself comfortable in his arms again.

"Half an hour," I tell him sternly, but there's a small smile on my face and it's two hours later before I'm putting on my father's hunting jacket and disappearing toward the woods.

When I return from hunting that day, I decide to call in on Haymitch. As expected, he's asleep, and his carpet is decorated with bottles.

"Hey Haymitch," I say to him, perching on the chair of his sofa behind him.

He's asleep, so I push him over and he comes to as his face hits the other arm of the sofa. His knife makes an appearance and I laugh at him as he struggles to find his attacker.

"Haymitch!"

"Ugh," is the response I get, and he lies back on the sofa. "What?"

I hold up the book Peeta and I have been working on. "I want you to see something."

Haymitch doesn't look interested, but I push the book into his hands and as he opens it, I see his eyes widen.

"What is this?" he asks me slowly.

"Memories," I tell him. "The people who deserved to live on."

He flicks through the book carefully, and I'm pleased it won his attention.

Haymitch finally closes it and looks at me. "All right, I'll help you."

"What?" I don't know what he's referring to.

"This book. There's much more to put in."

I'm astonished. I had brought the book to show him. I had never expected he would want to contribute. I feel a smile creep on my face. "Come join Peeta and I after dinner on Mondays and Thursdays. That's when we work on it."

After returning the book to my house, I decide to seek out Thom. He seemed to take charge with most of the rebuild plans, and I had a request of him.

I found Thom at the very end of Victor's Village, after asking around some of the other villagers. I knock at the door briskly and wait.

The door swings open, and there's bright Thom's face. "Katniss! Come in! How can I help you?"

I step into his house and I'm not sure how to start, so I try with small talk. "I've been thinking about the rebuild. How has it been going?"

"Good, good!" he grins at me, pulling a chair up for me in the living room. "I've been busy sorting things with prospective business owners. Gale's been helping me a lot with the paperwork side of things, actually. Have you heard from him lately?"

I feel the colour drain from my face. "We've written." It was true. I finally had gotten around to answering his letters that had been sitting on the mantelpiece that day I called my mother, but since the incident with me declining his invitation to return to District 2 with him, I hadn't heard from him, and doubted I would again.

"Well, he's been such a big hand. I miss him a ton but I guess he probably can't get away from his work for long enough to have a proper visit," Thom says sadly.

I start reconsidering my decision to come here. Would it really be okay for me to ask Thom, _Gale's_ friend, about building a bakery for Peeta? And then I think to myself, Thom is _my_ friend too, and he's hardly the childish type to hold it against me.

"Well," I begin, trying to clear my throat, "I was wondering if there were any plans for a new bakery?"

"Oh!" Thom grinned. "I'd been thinking about that myself. I know Peeta has been doing sales at his door, but I think an actual bakery in town would be an excellent idea. Have you asked him about it?"

I laugh awkwardly. "Sort of. I thought it might be a nice surprise though, if I could arrange something for him. Would that work?"

"Absolutely," Thom beams. "Come see me in the Hob tomorrow, in the makeshift office by Greasy Sae, and I'll show you the plans and empty spots."

I leave Thom's place feeling very good. I'm sure Peeta will be thrilled. I know baking is what he wants to do, and what he's good at. And I know District 12 will love having a bakery back.

I'm just making myself comfortable in the sofa when Peeta calls around unexpectedly.

"Oh, Peeta? I thought we agreed to have a break from working on the book so much?" I say questioningly. Not that I don't welcome his company. I just feel guilty.

"Mm." He seems preoccupied. He takes a seat on a nearby chair, and props his head on his hands.

"Something on your mind?" I tuck my legs up on the sofa and pat the spot beside me.

Peeta just looks at me.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" I ask, concern edging my voice. "Has something happened?"

He shakes his head. "It's just something annoying."

"What?"

An eternity seems to pass. "I've been invited to dinner," he says eventually.

I can't help but laugh. "You'd think you'd been reaped again, by the way you're acting, Peeta! Dinner is just dinner."

The blonde glances at my face cautiously. "So you don't think it's a big deal?"

"Of course not!" Why on earth was he coming to me about this? Surely he doesn't think he needs my permission?

"Okay," he says, sitting up properly. "I'll tell her yes."

And then it occurs to me. It's her. That girl with the curly, chestnut coloured hair. Her, with her sparkling blue eyes, and her pretty dresses, and her pretty friends.

"No!" The word slips out of my mouth without me realising.

"Pardon?" Peeta asks, looking at me curiously.

"N-nothing," I stammer, covering my eyes with my hand. I desperately hope he hadn't heard me.

Peeta stands up and offers me a nervous smile. "All right. Well, have a good sleep, Katniss. See you on Thursday." And he slips out the door like a shadow.

"See me on Thursday?" I repeat, numbly. I realise what he's telling me. No more sleeping together. The thought makes me crumple to the floor. Hello to the nightmares.


	5. Chapter 5

This is the last chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 5

I'm so afraid of sleeping tonight that I stay in the living room and pet Buttercup on my lap. At first I'm not aware of the tears rolling down my cheeks, but I spot them glistening on Buttercup's mangy coat.

I don't want Peeta having dinner with that girl. I want Peeta to have dinner with _me._ I kick a stray piece of parchment on the floor into the air. He's not mine though. I've always taken his attention for granted. And now I'll have to live with watching him be happy with someone else.

I shriek and bury my hands in my face. Buttercup hops off me, jolted from his sleep. He scurries under a chair and curls up again, eyeing me irritably.

My feelings are ruining everything for me. I've smothered them for so long. I'd resigned myself to the fact that I would never have children, to save them from the Hunger Games. Even now that there's no more Hunger Games, I'm still sure that I don't want to bring children into this barren world. It seems too cruel. However, as I grow closer to Peeta with each passing day, I can't help but picture him in my future. We suffered so much together, and we're both here putting things back together with each other's help. I don't know what will happen if he takes that girl for a wife, raises children with her. The thought makes me boil with rage.

I hide my face in the sofa. There's no sleep to be had for me tonight.

The following day I can barely make it out the door, so I decide against hunting. I'm supposed to meet Thom in the Hob today about designating a place for a bakery for Peeta to be built, but I don't have the heart anymore. I got so lost in bitterness last night that I feel like I'll explode if I have to deal with anything related to him.

I lie down for a few hours, not sleeping but not thinking. Just emptying myself of my wretched feelings. Eventually I drag myself out the back of the house and lie in the warm sunlight. I see Haymitch strolling out of his own back door, and I hear him in the distance later, along with the excited honks of geese. I never expected him to be the type to want to raise geese. He must really have nothing to do.

As the afternoon wears by, I regain a bit of energy. I really should see Thom. I shouldn't be angry with Peeta. These feelings, like I've been betrayed, are all wrong. He didn't promise himself to me.

 _But he did,_ I think furiously. It felt like eons ago, but I had asked him to stay with me, and he promised me, " _Always."_ Sure, the circumstances were different, but "always" means "always"!

I pull myself to my feet and eventually find myself at the Hob. Thom calls for me from beside Greasy Sae's stand, and together we pore over the blueprints from the main square. The place where Peeta's parents had their old bakery is taken, but a few metres down from there is a spacious area that I can already see as a new bakery, windows lined with beautifully frosted cakes, and a delicious scent sweeping the air.

"Let's put it there," I tell Thom confidently. Even though the Hunger Games are no more, being a Victor still allows me to live very comfortably, and today I'm glad to know I have money and power enough to do something like this.

I make my way back down Victor's Village, and my legs are feeling wobbly. I stop and stare at Peeta's house as I try to regain control. My house isn't far away, but I choose to put what little energy I have into opening his door and flopping to the floor.

Peeta, naturally alarmed at my state of exhaustion, rushes to my side. "Katniss, what happened?" He pulls me up into his arms and places me gently on a chair.

I smile at him dopily. "I'm just tired."

His eyes are wide with worry. "Did you not get much sleep last night?"

I don't answer him and look toward his oven. Something smells delicious.

"Is the dinner tonight?" I ask weakly.

Peeta shakes his head and takes a seat next to me. "No, not till Friday. And I haven't even gotten back to her saying I could go, anyway."

I close my eyes. "Good. Because you can't go."

Peeta doesn't mask his surprise. "I can't?"

"You promised you'd stay with me. You promised me ' _always'_." And then I can't keep talking anymore and watch as the world spins into blackness.

When I wake up, it's night time, and I'm in bed. It's my own bed, I realise, and I feel somewhat angry that Peeta brought me back here. Back here on my own.

But as I roll over, I strike a warm body. I'm almost too scared to ask.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm?" the blonde responds, opening his eyes.

I let out my breath and fall right back asleep again, smiling. I dream of warm kisses on my cheeks, and soft blonde curls tickling my forehead.

It's Peeta getting out of bed that wakes me. I fumble for his arm pathetically.

"Stay," I demand with the little energy I have.

I feel the smile on his lips when he kisses mine. "Okay," he tells me, and we cuddle each other close. I know I'm not completely awake, but I'm so happy lying here with him. When he tries to get up again an hour later, I latch onto him even tighter and he appeases me by staying in bed. However, when I next wake, he's gone, and I push myself out of bed unhappily. I feel much better today, but I wish Peeta were still here. I touch my lips, wonderingly. I'm very sure he gave me a kiss this morning. A guilty hope for more kisses pops up in my mind and I push it away forcefully.

The sun is already high in the sky but I really want to go hunting today. I'm eager for some fresh meat, and selling some of it at the Hob will give me an excuse to talk to Thom some more about the bakery arrangements.

When I follow the snare trail, there are a few squirrels, and I shoot down a rabbit as I pass through. I later catch a squirrel with an arrow to the eye, and I spot a doe but she gets away before I can shoot her. When I decide to break and sit down by the lake, I'm gobsmacked to see Peeta swimming around. He doesn't notice me though, so I crouch behind a bush and observe him for a little while.

He's swimming around with big powerful strokes of his arms, to make up for his missing leg, and he seems to be managing just fine. After a time, he decides to rest by floating around on his back. The sun glistens on his golden locks, and his arms move easily, pushing him slowly around the lake. He's not wearing an undershirt today, unlike when I was teaching him, so I see his chest for the first time in a long while. He's still well-muscled, and I feel a dangerous pang of physical attraction to him. I take a quick glance at my own body. I feel like a slip of a girl, not having managed to put on weight since I got back from the war. Then I think of the girl who wants to have dinner with Peeta. She has more curves than me, and glossier hair, and brighter eyes. Physically, she's got me beat. Heck, she probably has a better personality than I do as well. And yet… I can't stand the thought of Peeta being with her. I don't know what I should do.

When I look back upon the lake, Peeta is gone. There's a warning rustle near me though, and the blood drains from my face as Peeta stops, having noticed me behind the bush.

"Katniss, what are you doing?" he asks quizzically, adjusting his metal leg.

My mouth opens to give an excuse, and it's too stupid to fool him, so I close it and think of another, but that excuse is also too weak to be believed, and by now Peeta has a big grin on his face.

"See you tonight," he tells me, eyes twinkling. At first I think he's referring to joining me in bed tonight, and my cheeks regain their colour, but he continues, "Haymitch tells me he's coming to help work on the book too." Of course, it's Thursday! It feels like an age since we've touched the book. It'll be good to get back into it again tonight.

I watch my window like a hawk for the brown-haired girl and her friends. Sure enough, they're passing my window and now they're outside Peeta's door. I see Buttercup outside my door and take advantage of his convenient placement by stepping outside and petting him. I watch the scene unfold outside Peeta's.

The brown-haired girl begins the conversation, her expression bashful, her eyes sparkling. She's definitely a pretty wee thing. She's probably asking him about whether he'll be coming to dinner tomorrow. My eyes focus on Peeta now. He'll say no. He has to say no.

By the calm way the bread and money is exchanged, I'm not actually sure if he said yes or no to her, and when they pass me by, they stop talking, probably because they don't want me to overhear. Too bad for them that they weren't more careful when I was behind the door all those other times.

I slither back into my house and flip through the memory book. Haymitch and Peeta are due any minute.

The door swings open and sure enough, Peeta's there. He's smiling awkwardly, and takes a seat at the table.

"How did it go?" I ask him directly. I'm certain he saw me watching them from outside my house.

"All right," he says, looking rather ambivalent.

"Well, what's the problem then?" I ask haughtily.

Just then, Haymitch clomps through the doorway. I sometimes wonder about our no-knocking system.

"Let's get started," he booms, placing a bottle on the table.

"Oh no," I say, putting the bottle on the kitchen bench instead. "I won't risk this stuff spilling on our hard work."

Haymitch just snorts but snatches the book and opens up on the first unused page. "Right. We've got a ways to go."

Haymitch surprises both Peeta and I with his dedication and memory of the Hunger Games contestants from times long past. The entries get shorter and shorter, but Haymitch seems content. We actually run out of parchment that evening, and have to call it a night.

Our mentor pulls himself out of the chair, takes his bottle, which he hadn't touched once while we worked, and grunts goodnight before making an exit.

It's just Peeta and I now.

He clears his throat uncertainly. "I guess I'll be off too."

I stare at him. "Why?"

"Oh, well, if I don't have to go, I can stay," he says offhandedly.

"What?" I laugh. I take his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Peeta isn't quite as close with me tonight. His arms are around me, but I don't feel like he's really holding me. It irks me somewhat, and when I find myself in hazy dreams of being chased by Capitol mutts, I wake up, sweating with fear. Peeta's awake too, I can see.

We lie there in silence, but not our usual comfortable silence. I feel like there's something that needs to be out in the open between us.

"Peeta?"

"Mm?"

"Did you actually want to have dinner with her?" I try keeping my voice steady.

His eyes show surprise. "No, not really."

"Then what's wrong?" I ask, touching his cheek.

Peeta gently takes my hand from his face. "It's something she said."

"What?" There's a hiss of venom in my voice now. "What did she say?"

Peeta's eyes are downcast. "I don't want to talk about it, Katniss. Not right now."

"Did she threaten you?" My imagination goes wild. "Is she going to do something? Hurt someone?"

"No, no! Nothing like that," Peeta says quickly.

"Then _what?_ " I ask exasperated. "Just tell me!"

Peeta turns over in the bed evasively, and I'm left glaring at his back. "She said something like I'm just clinging to my old feelings for you, and you don't seem to want anything romantic anyway."

Peeta can't see me as my jaw drops. I don't know what to say, and Peeta takes the silence as me not wanting to deny it.

"Goodnight Katniss," he eventually mumbles, and pulls the blankets over himself closely.

I try to think of something to say to him, but I don't have a clue what. For the longest time, that girl's train of thought has probably been spot on. Even now, I half believe it. But I don't want to let him go. He's the most important person to me. He's the one who makes me happiest. And I'm sure I make him happy too.

As I lose myself in confused thoughts, another nightmare sneaks up on me, and Peeta isn't there when I wake up. My eyes become glassy with water, and I want Peeta beside me. I softly make my way down the stairs, and out the door.

"Peeta?" I choke, hurrying to his house. I feel the tears spilling from my eyes and I break into a mad dash up his stairs and into his room.

He's sitting on top of his blankets and is startled by my sudden appearance. I must look terrible, my face patchy with red, puffy eyes dripping salt water, my hair messy and unkempt.

Without invitation, I climb onto his bed and lock him in my arms. I nuzzle my face into his undershirt and let the tears continue silently. Slowly, I feel his arms come to life and a gentle hand strokes the back of my head and plays with my hair. We lie there like this for a few moments when a sweet memory sidles into my head.

"Peeta?" My voice comes out tiny.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember when we had a picnic on the roof before the Quell?"

He's slow to respond. "I'm… not sure."

My body jolts and there's a sudden ache in my chest. "You don't remember?"

Peeta is silent for a few moments. "No, I don't think so."

I pull back from him and look at his face. I have to wipe my eyes so I can actually see him. "You wanted to commit that time to your memory," I whisper. "We had a day all to ourselves. We took food up to the roof, and you sketched me and we made up a game where we threw an apple-"

"Against the rooftop forcefield?" he breaks in suddenly. I see his cheeks flush with red, even in the dark. "You made a crown of flowers after, and I played with your hair. I told you I was practicing making knots."

I breathe deeply. "You remember?"

"I remember," he says huskily, and all of a sudden his lips are crashing down on mine and once I quickly get over the shock, I find myself kissing him back fiercely, hungrily. I press my body hard up against his, enjoying a thrill of fire between us, and I catch his stunned look as our lips part and our eyes open.

"Katniss…? Do you-"

I silence him with a swift kiss, but the hunger in me builds and I start losing myself to heavier, more passionate kisses. This desire for Peeta feels so familiar, and I know it's always been close to the surface, but I determinedly pushed it away time and time again. I can't do it anymore though. I feel Peeta greedily kiss me back, and soon he's on top of me, pressing sweet kisses on my face and neck.

A little moan of delight escapes me and I slip my hands up his undershirt, excited by his strong body. As my fingers explore his wide back, Peeta's lips come for mine again, and heady with desire, I kiss him back, and force my tongue into his mouth.

"Nn!" Peeta is surprised, but his tongue begins to dance with mine, and I feel a steady thrumming deep down inside of me. It's my craving for him and I to become one, and as I become conscious of how hot our skin is, how close we are, how our tongues slide together like serpents, I press ahead with a kind of urgency. I roll him over so I'm on top of him now and press my torso hard against his. I can feel his manhood, firm through his undershorts, and I want it so badly.

Slowly though, Peeta unhooks his tongue from mine and tries to put a little space between us.

"Katniss," he tries again, but I'm sidling up to him already.

"Yes?" I say, barely audibly, into his ear. My breath sends a shiver down him and he pulls me on top of him again. Our noses brush, and I press my lips to his, softly at first, and then more heavily as my body begs for more. I'm finding it hard to keep myself from moving in too fast, but I check myself because Peeta is happy taking his sweet time with me. His eyes tell me he's savouring every kiss, every stroke, every lick that we share. Almost timidly, his hands creep up under my shirt. The night is silent except for our quickened breathing. Peeta's fingers run streams down my back and slowly, oh so slowly, do they make their way to the front of my body and pull my shirt up. I feel a strange satisfaction, seeing Peeta admiring me like this. I take my shirt off completely, take Peeta's hands and place them on my breasts, because he's being so shy about it.

"Go on," I urge him lustfully. " _I'm yours, Peeta_."

My words strike a nerve in him, and he pushes me onto my back, his face alight with the kind of happiness only I can give him. His kisses break on my face in waves, and I feel his hands caress my breasts, slowly and curiously at first, and then more confidently and sensually. A sound of pleasure slips from my lips, and encouraged, Peeta begins kissing and licking my breasts. I watch as he revels in their soft curves, places his kisses on them so gently, and dances his tongue in smooth circles on them. He begins sucking on my nipple but by now, the thrumming in my body demands his presence inside me, and I pull off his undershirt, and then slide his undershorts down to his knees. He relents from my chest momentarily to get his shorts off properly, and then he's back on top of me, his body forcing mine down eagerly.

Peeta's blue eyes are serious though, and he looks into my own ones deeply. His voice is a whisper. "You love me." He pauses. "Real or not real?"

I take his head in both my hands and kiss his lips. They feel like petals. "Real," I tell him. And with that, we lose ourselves.


End file.
